


Volume

by togekissies



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015), Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Character Study, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Hopeful Ending, Post-Star Wars: The Force Awakens, Relationship Study
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-03
Updated: 2016-05-03
Packaged: 2018-06-06 06:14:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6742480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/togekissies/pseuds/togekissies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Have you ever found hope,” Rey says out loud in an empty room. It does not answer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Volume

**Author's Note:**

> thanks to my buddy pippa for going over this fic with me!! :*

“Have you ever found hope,” Rey says out loud in an empty room. It does not answer.

The air isn’t silent. Rey’s found nothing in the base ever is. There’s too many people and droids crammed into one place for any moment to be a quiet one. The best she gets is quiet _ er _ , in this corner, half hidden by a sheet of scrap fabric someone nailed to the ceiling.

“Have you ever found hope,” Rey starts again, “that you never thought existed? That  _ could _ exist?”

She feels stupid, talking to herself like this. She expects someone to come up too close any minute now, to overhear, to judge, or worse—to sympathize. Someone shuffles boxes around behind her. Down the hall to her left, she hears a droid beeping a song. 

“A-and I didn’t know hope could take so many forms,” she stumbles, eyes stinging. “It’s green, and it’s flying, it’s the stink of oil in an ancient ship, and it’s a  _ job offer, _ and—”

Rey stops. She pinches the bridge of her nose and breathes. In, and out, then in.

“And when I watched him fall down that pit, I thought—I thought that was what I deserved for daring to hope. Me. A scavenger.” Rey pauses. “Have you ever felt like that?” she asks out loud. 

Finn does not answer.

Silence does not look good on him, the vibrant and talkative boy she met on Jakku. He breathes as steady as the machines monitoring him whirr. She knows what he would say, if he could.

“It’s been three days,” she says, but there’s a lot she doesn’t.

She does not talk about the memorials, the pyres, one set up for each person they lost in the battle. How she surprised herself by crying at each one, even for those she knew existed. How Leia’s voice went hoarse giving eulogies, and Rey watched the pyres until they were embers.

She does not mention how she spent those three days rummaging through forgotten supplies on the base, pulling out swathes of old fabric, finding needles and thread, and stitching together new clothing for herself while she couldn’t sleep. 

She does not talk about how Jessika found her, hunched over the grey cotton that would become her new jacket, and offered to help. How Jessika sat stubbornly for an hour, muttering, “This is impossible, how do you make your fingers do this,” while she messed up her stitches.

She does not talk about the day she found an anonymous gift left on her cot, wrapped in recycled paper and twine. How, when Rey unwrapped the leather-bound notebook and found the inscription on the first page,  _ So you don’t forget a thing to tell him when he wakes up,  _ she went to the command room just to give the general the biggest hug she could manage.

She does not talk about the day she sat by Finn’s bed and silently sobbed—and when she quieted enough Poe, thinking she was asleep, draped a blanket over her shoulders and sat next to her in solidarity. 

She especially does not speak about Chewbacca, who spent those days working on the  _ Falcon _ until the only job left was to detail it, which Rey did for him without offering. How he did not make a sound at Han’s funeral, but his cry when Han was stabbed still echoes in her mind. How that morning Chewbacca pat her back and offered her a pilot’s seat, right next to his.

Instead, she says, “I haven’t stopped, Finn. I’m still dreaming. I-I want more, and I never thought I could. It’s not over for me. And I feel—” She stops and stares at his face. He’s stable, the medical droid said. His prognosis looks good. “I feel free.”

Rey touches his hand, curling her fingers around his.

“You gave me that,” she says. “Thank you.”

Finn does not answer.

Rey sits quietly, listening to the sounds of the activity that surrounds the medical bay. They’ll be moving to a new base, Leia told her. In a different system. They haven’t picked yet, but there’s a few options. It’ll be another few days before they’re ready to leave. Leia also said that she will send Rey the coordinates when they get there, because both of them know Rey won’t be around for the move. 

She thinks about her staff, leaning against the wall. Her staff and her boots are her only remnants of Jakku. She has Leia’s book tucked securely at the bottom of her bag, and Luke’s lightsaber at the top. Han’s blaster is strapped to her thigh. Chewbacca and the astromech R2D2 are waiting for her at the  _ Falcon _ . 

The prospect of flying into the unknown is terrifying. But, at the same time, it’s twice as exciting—Poe smiled at her and said that’s because she has the heart of a pilot.

Rey squeezes Finn’s hand one last time. She presses her lips to his forehead and says, “We’ll see each other again some day. I’m sure of it.”

Finn does not answer. Not yet, anyway.


End file.
